


Love and Basketball

by Rosalita



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode Related, First Times, M/M, None - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:52:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosalita/pseuds/Rosalita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can a little one-on-one lead to love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love and Basketball

## Love and Basketball

by Rosalita

Author's website:  <http://www.slashcity.org/~rosalita>

I think we all know by now that these lovely boys are not mine. And I'm certainly not making any money off them. 

This post-TSbyBS story was originally published in "Warriors" and has been slightly revised. 

* * *

Jim thinks a game of basketball will cure any ill. So when he said, "Let's take a break, Chief" and threw me the ball, I knew what he was doing. He was trying to distract me just as he had been all morning by throwing out little comments as I paced across the living room floor. 

He said things like "I don't know why you're so nervous. It's just a graduation ceremony." and "The hard part's over. You made it through the academy. Piece of cake." And my personal favorite: "Don't worry, Sandburg, I told the guys not to make fun of your uniform." 

My hero. 

I suppose he thought he was helping. I don't think he gets this, but my life is about to change profoundly. No more staying in the truck. No more "You're not a cop, Sandburg." No more "Sorry, Jim, I can't make that stake-out tonight. Finals, you know." 

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't want to be a cop. I really like helping people, and I can help a lot more people in a lot more important ways as a cop than I ever could as an anthropologist. But that doesn't mean that sometimes, just sometimes, I'm sort of overwhelmed by the reality of it all. 

This time tomorrow, I'll be a cop, and looking back over the last four years, it isn't that surprising. In a way, everything has led to this moment. I think my fate was sealed the day I turned down that expedition to Borneo. 

Fate. Destiny. Jim would hate this shit. I don't know what else to call it, though. Four years ago, I was a Ph.D. candidate at the end of my rope. I'd spent years looking for a real Sentinel for years and come up empty. I was close to packing it in when the medical report (was that illegal or what?) came through the fax machine. Here was a real Sentinel, right here in Cascade. Coincidence, my ass. If it had been a television show, nobody would have believed it. 

So I made a deal that I knew would change my life. I just didn't know at the time how much it would change. I think I knew all along that I could never publish the dissertation. No way could I keep Jim's identity a secret when we'd been damned near inseparable. A fool could have guessed who my subject was. Naomi probably did me a favor by hastening the inevitable. It was just so hard to throw all that work away. 

So there I stood at the proverbial crossroads of my life, and Jim was giving me a ration. Typical. It's nice to know that one thing in my life will never change. 

Speaking of change, I've decided to keep my hair short. I know, I said I'd never cut it, but when in Rome and all that. Besides, I kind of like it. It's a lot easier to take care of for all that the curls are totally out of control without all that weight to hold them down. Now, if I don't keep it cut to just the right length, I end up looking like a clown. I don't need that, let me tell you. 

I think Jim likes it, too, although ou should have seen his face when I walked into the loft. See, I didn't tell him I was going to do it. I didn't even tell myself I was going to do it. I kind of had to sneak up on myself. I couldn't make a plan or else I'd never actually go through with it. I was walking down the street about a week before the academy started and just went into the first salon I saw. The stylist tried to talk me out of it. I donated the hair to a group that makes wigs for cancer patients. 

Jim was cooking dinner when I got back. He's really hard to rattle, but rattle him I did. Rattle, hell, it was at least a 6.3 on the Richter Scale. 

"Hey, Chief, how does my secret spagh--" He dropped the spoon into the pan, splattering sauce all over the stove and counter. "What the hell did you do?" he demanded loudly. 

"Got a haircut, Jim. You said I had to, remember?" 

He put a hand on his hip and leaned against the counter right in the secret spaghetti sauce pooling there and fixed me with that glare he has that intimidates everyone else. "When exactly did you start listening to me? No, really, I'd like to know so I can mark it on my calendar." 

I just shrugged and started setting the table while he finished cooking. He'd get used to it. All through dinner he stared at me and halfway through clean up he simply said, "It looks good, Chief." 

So anyway, I knew he was at the end of his patience when he tossed me the basketball. I guess he thought he could run all the nervous energy off me. More fool, he. I wiped up the court with him. Again. Sure, I was lying when I said I was all-city point guard, but I was still a damned good player. Being the shortest guy on the team actually worked to my advantage. Opposing players always underestimated me. People still do, including Jim sometimes. Being low to the ground makes me just a little quicker and more agile than he is. Plus, I'm younger, though I'd never point that out to him. 

I'd like to get older. 

Cassie said once that Jim and I were too competitive with each other, and she was right. When we play, we get really physical. We're all over each other--blocking, pushing, grabbing. It's totally intense. 

One of the perks of that intensity is getting to feel Jim's body against mine. This game was no different. Jim was constantly plastered against me, trying to steal the ball. Or I was up in his face, jumping to block a shot. More than once, I felt his dick brush against me as we fought for possession of the ball. I love basketball, I can cop a feel off Jim, and he thinks it's an "accident." 

It wouldn't come as a surprise to anyone if I said I found Jim attractive or that I'd done the wild thing with a guy or two or six. Looking at Jim all sweaty and bare-chested, wearing shorts that hugged his body in all the right places, I was getting ideas that I told myself weren't worth the heartache that making them a reality would entail. 

I'd long ago put Jim in the Do Not Touch category for several reasons. Chief among them was that sex would needlessly complicate an already complicated relationship. We lived together, worked together, ate together and spent most of our spare time together. And while I don't think he'd be averse to having sex with me, adding sleeping together to our repertoire probably wouldn't be a good idea. If it didn't work out, it would ruin everything. I've worked too hard to become the kind of partner that Jim can rely on to screw it up now. 

Besides, if our relationship was destined to go in that direction, it would get there in its own sweet time. But now was not that time. No matter how great it felt to have Jim's body plastered up against mine. No matter how good he looked all sweaty and bare-chested, wearing shorts that hugged his body in all the right places. 

It was getting dark by the time we finished and made our way back to the truck, still wired from the game. Jim was behind me making lame excuses about why he lost, and I had my mind on going to Ned's and letting Jim buy me a beer. I turned around to tell him so and noticed his eyes were looking at the point where my ass had been only seconds before. 

So Jim was looking at my ass. That was fair, I guess, since I'd been looking at his earlier. But I didn't have a hard on while I was doing it. Plus, now that I'd turned around, he was staring at my crotch. And sniffing the air. 

Oh. God. "Uh, Jim?" 

He looked at me with a predatory gleam that had me half hard in a heartbeat. Whoever hands out spirit animals knew what it was doing when it gave Jim a big cat. 

I backed up and he sidled forward. Two more steps back and I felt the cool metal of the truck at my back, then Jim's hot flesh as he pressed against me, pinning me there. 

"Jim what are you do-- ?" 

Soft lips came down hard on mine giving me just a taste before withdrawing. "You think I don't know what you're up to, don't you?" 

"What are you talking about?" I struggled against him, trying to move him, but that was useless. Jim doesn't let me push him around unless he wants to be pushed. 

He smiled and licked his lips, pushing his hips against me so I could feel how hard he was. "This is what you want, isn't it? That's why you're always fouling me on the court." 

He had my number. To forstall any obfuscations I might have come up with, his mouth crashed into mine, hot tongue snaking out, seeking entrance. It was a mistake, I knew, but I opened my mouth for him and let my tongue get tangled up in his. 

Wow. Oh. Wow. He tastes--. Wow. 

Man, one kiss and I was already incoherent. I've got no defenses against him. None, and he knows it. That sex would happen between us someday was a given, and I'd been kidding myself all along that I could restrain myself if the opportunity ever came up. But did it have to happen now? We played basketball last month. Why not then? Why not six months from now? Isn't it enough that I'm going to have to deal with a new job and a new way of life without the added pressure of a changing relationship with Jim? 

Looking at him, I realized that he was't really thinking much beyond coming as hard as he could as soon as he could. The lustful look in his eyes kicked my arousal up a notch. His nostrils flared. Knowing that Jim could smell my arousal turned me on even more. I gave up then, and he sensed my surrender. He laughed softly in my ear, tickling the skin with his breath. He had me and he knew it. He kissed his way slowly across my jaw to that spot just under my left ear. God. How did he know about that? I tried to bite back the moan that was forming and stop my head from tilting to give him a better angle, but it didn't work. It occurred to me one last time that I should put a stop to this, but he licked and nipped at the sensitive spot until I was whimpering and trying to dig my fingers into the side of the truck. 

He leaned away from me just enough to pull my shirt up and over my head. Up to that point, I thought we were just doing a little necking. 

"Um, Jim," I panted, "you know, we're, like, out in public." 

"So? It's dark." He let my tank top drop to the ground. 

"It's not _that_ dark." 

His answer was to press his naked chest to mine. Oh. So what if someone could see us? There wasn't enough light to actually identify us. Besides, those pecs are enough to give a straight guy fantasies. How could a bisexual, neo-hippie, ex-grad student resist? I ran my hands up his abdomen to his chest, pushing him back so I could trace hard muscle and soft skin. 

He opened his shorts to free himself and I reached for him instantly. Man, he was beautiful. So hot and hard. And the noises he made when I stroked him were music to my dick. 

My own cock was pushing painfully at the seam of my shorts and I nearly came when he began to undo them, the backs of his fingers pressing against my hardness as each button popped open. As God is my witness, I will wear nothing but button flies for the rest of my life. He lowered them roughly, then lifted me slightly to align us. I buried my face in his neck and cried out at the pleasure that rocketed up my spine when his cock touched mine. My fingers dug into his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises, and I rocked back in delicious counterpoint. 

Our rocking quickly picked up speed and I dug my sneakers into his sweat-slicked calves. If my shorts weren't around my thighs, I could have wrapped my legs around him and pulled him in closer. Instead, I just groaned in frustration and rocked harder. We were both gasping and groaning so loud that I'm surprised no one came to investigate. Hah, maybe that's why no one came to investigate. 

"Blair," he breathed into my mouth and with one last thrust came on me. God, Jim was coming on me. That thought triggered my orgasm, and I tried my damnedest not to scream because it was good. It was so damned good. It was just the fucking best. And this was just a little frottage. Just thinking what it would be like to fuck or be fucked by this man nearly gave me a second orgasm. 

Afterward, I clung to him, weak kneed and shaking. If it weren't for him at my front and the truck at my back, I'd have slid to the pavement. 

"Jimmy," I stammered. 

"Liked that, huh?" 

Smug bastard. See, this was what I was afraid of--that it would be so good between us that we could never go back. There was no way I could fight this. No way. 

Jim used a rag from the truck to clean us both up. After pressing a quick kiss to my lips, he said, "Let's go home, Chief." 

I never even got my beer. 

I spent the ride home processing what had just happened. The lethargy that great sex always brings was wearing off, and I was getting mad. It was completely irrational, I know. I allowed it to happen. The train would never have left the station had I said one simple little word. No. And the sex was every bit as fantastic as I'd always imagined it would be. Still, who said he gets to make the decision about when and where our relationship would change? 

By the time we got to the loft, my temper was warring with my good sense. Temper won. 

"What the hell was that all about, Jim?" I snapped as soon as the door closed. Or slammed, I should say. 

He just shrugged and said, "I love you, Blair." 

Well, that wasn't what I'd been expecting to hear, and it took a long moment to come up with my rebuttal which was a pretty lame, "You love me." 

"Yeah." 

"That's just great," I muttered, walking over to the refrigerator and yanking the door open. I was determined to have a goddamned beer. "And when did you decide that we were going to have sex?" 

"I didn't hear you complaining a while ago." 

Oh, sure, throw that in my face. But Jim wasn't trying to make points; he was getting pissed. 

"What the hell is your problem?" he said. 

"Nothing." I paused to take a swig of my beer, hoping the icy liquid would cool my anger. "I'd just like to be consulted when you decide to make a major change in our lives." 

"So what are you saying?" 

"I'm saying that next time you decide to jump me, I'd like to talk about it first." 

"Talk? You want--" His eyes flashed, and I could tell that he was about to really lay me out. Then he stopped, and quietly focused all his attention on me, using his senses to check me out. Bastard. 

"You're scared," he said. 

"I am not." 

"What are you afraid of?" 

"I'm not afraid, dammit." I slammed my beer on the counter. "Jesus, I'd just like a little discussion before you ravage me next time, okay?" 

Man, I could practically hear his teeth cracking from where he stood. I waved away whatever he was about to say and walked to the door. "I'm outta here." 

Well, I didn't handle that very well, did I? The man of my dreams tells he loves me and not only had I totally lost my cool, but I'd left so fast, I hadn't had time to change my clothes. Darkness was bringing the temperature down rapidly, and I was dressed in cut-off shorts and a tank top. And I was sticky, to boot. 

Nothing to be afraid of? Was he nuts? I don't know anything about love. Lust, yeah, but not love. I'd only been in love once before with Maya, and look how that turned out. 

Oh, who am I kidding? I was never in love with Maya. I liked her a lot, sure. I was just trying so hard to stay away from Jim and not screw up all my research. Except now there was no research so that excuse was out the window. 

Next. 

The cop thing. Now that could be a real problem. I was going to have a hard enough time adjusting without having to worry about hiding a relationship with Jim. Of course, half the department already thought we were doing it, so would it really be that big a problem? 

Maybe. Maybe not. 

Well, shit, it was getting chilly, and I was running out of excuses. Let's try the real reason I freaked out over Jim's declaration. I was afraid of fucking up badly and losing the one person in my life that means everything to me. It's silly I know. We made it through Alex Barnes, and we made it through the dissertation fiasco. That alone should have taught me that Jim loves me enough to forgive me anything. Even acting like an asshole when he told me loved me. 

Damn, it was starting to get really cold. One of these days, my mouth and my temper were going to make me do something stupid. Like walk out of the loft half dressed. 

It was late. With any luck Jim would already be asleep, and I could contemplate this in the warmth of my bed. Dawn was still a couple of hours away. I turned back toward the loft. 

Luck was not with me. Jim was still up, sitting at the table, sipping at what had better be decaffeinated coffee. I took a cleansing breath and joined him. 

My gut twisted when I saw the look on his face. I'd been afraid of hurting him and here I'd done it already. Before I could say a word, before I could apologize, he swallowed and said haltingly, "It's . . .um. It's not too late, you know. You can still back out." 

"Jesus, Jim." Back out of what? Being a cop? Being his friend? Being his lover? 

He raised his hands in surrender. "I just want you to take the badge because it's what you want, not because it's what I want or because you think you have no choice." 

"Is that what you think last night was about?" Oh, good, it was the cop thing. We'd been having this conversation at least once a week ever since that badge had landed in my hands. "I want to be a cop. I want to be your partner. How many times do I have to say it before you believe me?" 

"I just want to be sure. I want you to be sure." 

"I am sure, Jim." 

He nodded, drained his cup and said, "I need to get some sleep. So do you. Big day." 

I opened my mouth and closed it a couple of times. I'm pretty sure I looked like a demented fish. "But, Jim " I finally managed by the time he'd gotten halfway up the stairs. 

"I know," he said when I didn't say anything else. "We'll talk about it later." Then he smiled at me and walked the rest of the way up the stairs. 

I graduated to applause, whistles and hoots coming from the general direction of where most of Major Crimes and my mom were sitting. Contrary to Jim's assurances, everyone did make fun of my uniform, but that was okay. It did look pretty dorky. Later, everyone gathered at the loft for a party. Rafe got drunk, Joel blew his diet, Simon got sentimental on me, and Naomi and Jim were off in a corner for almost an hour. I don't even want to know what they were talking about. 

People were everywhere. And as I noted to Jim once, cops really know how to throw down. I must be getting old; it was a little too loud for me in there. The balcony was deserted so I retreated there, closing the doors behind me. Moments later, Naomi joined me. She hooked her arm around mine and said, "Have I told you lately how very proud I am of you?" 

"Are you? Really?" I didn't mean to sound so much like a little kid aching for his mother's approval, but there it was. 

She ran her fingers through my hair, frowning a little at its lack of length. "Yes, sweetie, really." With a small smile, she asked, "Do you know what I would have done if I'd been in your position? I would have run away." 

"You did run away," I pointed out. 

"Don't change the subject." She emphasized her words with a squeeze to my arm. "I would never have had the courage to do what you did. I know why you did it. And so does Jim." 

I knew I should have broken up their little pow-wow in the corner. "What did you say to him?" 

She put on her best I'm totally innocent look. "Nothing. I promised you my meddling days were over, and I meant it. He just told me that you're going to be a great cop and promised me he'd watch out for you." She wore a knowing grin, and I braced myself. "He loves you very much, you know." 

"Oh. God. Did he tell you that?" I closed my eyes, and she shook me until I opened them. 

"Not in so many words, but I know what I saw in his eyes when he talked about you. Don't throw away this chance, honey. Remember what you said about the brass ring? Grab it while you can." She kissed my cheek and left. 

I don't know how long I stood on the balcony staring into the darkness, but it was long enough for all of our guests to leave. Naomi was right, of course. Everything I wanted was within my grasp, and I'd be a fool to pass it up. 

People think Naomi's a ditz, but she's got it going on when it comes to relationships. Not her own, of course, but everyone else's. I laughed out loud at the thought of Naomi "Love 'em and Leave 'em" Sandburg dishing out relationship advice. 

"What's so funny, Chief?" Jim placed a hand on my back. It was warm and inviting. Be with me, it said. Oh, man, I did love him. I probably always had. I thought back to last night. To how right his body felt against mine, how perfect. Maybe this was how things were supposed to be. Maybe that's the real reason we were brought together, to love each other. I could do that. I could do that for a very long time. 

But there was one thing that had to be cleared up. 

"Listen to me, because I'm only going to say this once more, then I don't ever want to hear another word about it." 

He gave me a mock glare, but straightened up when he saw I was serious. 

"I want to be a cop. Do you really think I'd go through the academy, learn to shoot so someday I might be able to save your dumb ass, and tackle that hellish obstacle course if it wasn't something I really wanted to do?" 

"Well, gee, when you put it like that ," Jim began sarcastically, but I cut him off. 

"Yes or no, Ellison." 

"No, I guess you wouldn't." 

"Great, case closed." 

"All right." Jim acquiesced and pulled me to him. We nestled in each other's arms, looking out over the city for a long time. Jim finally broke the silence. "We've come a long way, haven't we?" 

"Yeah." 

His arms tightened around me in a quick squeeze before he released me. "I have something to show you." 

He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and dug around inside. What he pulled out looked like a business card. He handed it to me. I held it up to the light. It was the card I'd given him in a hospital room what seemed like an eternity ago. 

"Oh, man. Where'd you find this?" 

"In my wallet where it's always been." 

"You kept it?" 

"Yeah, I guess I tucked it back into my wallet on my way out the door. Every time I cleaned it out . . . I don't know, I just couldn't throw it away." 

I grinned down at the card. "Man." I shook my head, stunned that he'd kept it and remembering the day he'd first walked into my office all desparate and defensive. 

Jim breathed out a quiet laugh. "I remember the first time I saw you. You were bopping around, hair flying every which way. And that music was fucking awful, by the way. And all that crap you babbled at me. I was impressed though, the way you stood up to me." I felt him shaking his head and knew he was caught up in the memory just as I was. 

"When I walked out of your office, I thought that was that. I was going to lose my mind and no one could help me. I should have known you'd follow me." 

"Let's face it, Jim. We're supposed to be together." 

In the dim light, I could just make out his grimace. "Oh no, Chief, not the destiny stuff again." 

I knew he'd hate it. "Why is it so hard to believe that we were brought together for a reason? I mean, think about it. I'm a grad student who is about to abandon his dissertation for lack of a research subject when out of nowhere bang! the perfect subject. You're a Sentinel who needs help, and you end up in the very hospital where the only nurse who knows the one person who can help you works. I'm telling you, man, it was meant to be." 

Jim snorted and said, "I'd prefer to think that we chose each other." 

"Destiny brought us together, but we choose to follow it or not." 

Raising his eyebrows in a cheerful leer, Jim suggested, "Well then, I think it's time to follow that destiny. Just not out here on the balcony." 

"This coming from the man who just yesterday had his wicked way with me against a truck in a public park." 

"I was overcome with lust." 

"Really?" 

"Yep." 

"Cool." 

I led the way upstairs. 

I never realized how bright Jim's room was until I woke up there with the morning sun hitting me in the eyes. No wonder he wears a mask to sleep. My body was pleasantly sore and tingling. God, did Jim knows how to use his dick. Just remembering how it felt being covered by his body, wrapping myself around him while he pounded into me was doing wonderful things for my morning hard on. 

I heard a soft grunt and realized Jim was awake. Awake and lying on his side, head propped on one hand, watching me. 

"That girl was right," he said. "You are adorable." 

I peered up at him. "What girl?" 

"The blonde you wanted me to listen in on the day we met." 

"You told me she thought I was a dork!" 

Jim smirked. "I lied." 

"Why?" 

"I'm not sure. Maybe because I found you attractive and didn't want any competition." 

"I thought you found me annoying." 

"You were annoyingly attractive." He kissed me sweetly. "You're going to be a great cop." 

"You think?" 

"Fuckin' A." 

"Naomi told me you promised to look after me." I rolled over and straddled him, trying to look as menacing as I could. "You're not going to still be shoving me behind you and crap like that, are you?" 

He pretended to mull it over. "I'll try not to, but you know, even though you're carrying a gun now, the overprotective thing is probably not going to change." 

"I know. Just don't tell me to stay in the truck." 

He rolled his eyes. "As if you ever did." 

"Come on, I stayed sometimes." 

"Yeah," he said in a way that made it hard to determine if he was agreeing with me or being sarcastic. But then, it didn't really matter because he pulled me down for another kiss. This one long and hot. 

"So, what are we going to do all day?" I asked as I came up for air. 

"I don't know, Chief. I was thinking we could play some basketball." 

The End. 

* * *

End Love and Basketball by Rosalita: sorosie@cox.net

Author and story notes above.

  
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